


that I tattooed across my heart

by AlrightDarlin (WhoopsOK)



Series: The Foxhole Kits [8]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Canon Relationships, Families of Choice, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Post-Canon, Tattoos, everyone is alive happy and safe, everyone is loved and knows it, in the past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28041459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/AlrightDarlin
Summary: As anticipated, the press gets ahold of it and spins a half dozen different headlines about what it could mean, some close to correct, most very wrong.(Over the years, the Foxes get tattoos.)
Relationships: The Foxes & The Foxes (All For The Game)
Series: The Foxhole Kits [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1288151
Comments: 18
Kudos: 86





	that I tattooed across my heart

**Author's Note:**

> So, I mentioned tattoos in the previous bit, so this is just a oneshot about the Foxes getting inked. The timeline is a little weird as always, but I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Warning for references to past self-harm/wound healing in Andrew’s section. Take care of yourself and skip from “Andrew feels himself…” to “And you know you won’t be able…” if you don’t want to read that bit, kits.
> 
> Title from “I Don’t Like Who I Was Then” by The Wonder Years

The girls do it first, about a month before Dan’s graduation.

The planning lasts longer than that, done in snatches and starts since the previous semester. Allison has always fully intended to get a tattoo; it just seems like the sort of thing she should have as a rebellious ex-princess and she’s willing to lean into the image. Renee and Dan sort of laugh about that, but don’t exactly disagree. They’re all tangled up in Dan’s bed, half-dressed and half-watching _American Ninja Warrior_ when Allison nudges Dan with her phone.

Dan has to crane her head backwards over Renee’s thigh to see the bookmarks on Allison’s Instagram as she says, “I can book an appointment with the linework guy a month from now _or_ the lady that does the pretty florals when she comes for a convention in May.”

Renee twists to look at the screen. “Who did the watercolors?”

They text pictures and portfolios back and forth for a week before Renee is onboard and they’ve actually decided to try and schedule a date. The three of them are giddy with excitement when they manage to schedule nearly simultaneous appointments with their artists after their last game.

“Do you want me to come hold your hands?” Wymack joked when they told him, seated with Dan curled so close into his side she was nearly in his lap.

Allison stuck her tongue out at him while Renee laughed, leaning her head on his knee. “ _No_ , dad, it’s a girls’ day. We’ll send pictures!”

Matt gets a picture first, though.

Seth and Aaron are wailing on each other in Smash Bros when Matt’s phone vibrates beside him. The girls really had made a day out of heading to their appointments, getting lunch together before heading to the tattoo shop. Matt’s been getting cute pictures all morning and smiling like a dope about it.

This time, though, he practically does a spit-take so noticeably that it draws Aaron and Seth’s attention from the screen.

“What’s wrong?” Aaron asks.

“Nothing,” Matt answers too quickly, then flashes hot because he’s so, _so_ whipped.

It’s just her thigh. All things considered, she’s sent him much more risqué pictures over the course of their relationship. Still, this picture is for him where she’s standing in a bathroom mirror pulling her already short-shorts up higher. Even plastered with cling-wrap and tender red around the edges, the fox face staring out from her thigh, flowers behind its ears, spilling down its face is gorgeous.

(It’s also attached to the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on, so he may be a little biased.)

Still, when the guys’ phones ping, too, they pause the game long enough to see the others and send predictably excited texts. The pictures are all cute. Dan’s leg from a little further away where she’s standing in a mirror. Allison with her hair twisted up into a bun to show off the fox seated in a crescent moon on the back of her shoulder, very _wanderlust chic_. They all fawn over the tiny water color fox leaping down Renee’s ankle on a streak of rainbow.

When they get back to the dorms, they still can’t quit looking down at themselves, the new art on their bodies. It seems like it’s a mood booster all around, everyone pausing to look at the new splashes of color on their friends. Even a few days later, when they’re itching like a _mother_ , Wymack listens to their whining and coddles them, teasing them the whole time.

“My poor babies,” he coos, completely deadpan as he carefully smears tattoo cream on Allison’s shoulder. He smirks and kisses her cheek when she turns to glare at him. “Wait’ll you get to the _Fruity Pebbles_ phase.”

“The _what?_ ” she demands over Kevin’s disgusted laughter.

The trend doesn’t end, there, of course. For goodness sakes, after Matt proposes to Dan the day of his graduation nobody is even surprised by the fact that they wind up having a Fox themed wedding. The next natural step on their anniversary is Matt laying his cheek on Dan’s thigh and saying, “I kinda want to get one, too.”

Dan plays with his hair, smiling. “Yeah? What’re you thinking?”

Matt is thinking about what a hassle it is to shave, but Dan just laughs when he says that out loud. They both know he’s getting a fox, but they talk anyway, up until Dan is sitting on the counter laughing at Matt as he shaves his legs for the first time.

If he tears up at the tattoo parlor when he sees the fox standing tall on his thigh, walking out of the Narcotic’s Anonymous symbol—before it’s even inked—that’s fine. Dan kisses his temple and the tattoo artist takes off his glove to squeeze his shoulder and say, “Hell yeah, man, that’s legit. Let that shit out.”

The Foxhole group chat lights up with love when he sends them a picture, Dan seated on his un-inked thigh so their foxes are side-by-side.

Wymack texts him privately. > _Congrats on the win streak, kid._

They haven’t even _started_ the season. So Matt definitely cries, because of course Wymack remembers he just got his token for being seven years clean.

Seth texts him, too, because the picture makes him proud of his brother and also weirdly anticipatory.

Looking over at Jean who is curled into a ball in their living room, reading a book in French that Seth has definitely already asked about but forgotten the plot of, he thinks for a second. Seth’s graduation present to Jean had been paying, before Jean had his own money, to get the tattoo removed off his face. It’d taken (a blowout fight about the implications, a smaller argument about the money, an apologetic discussion about boundaries, and) several sessions with the doctor, but he’s _nobody’s_ third now. Unless he’s been in the sun too long or Seth is really in his face, he can’t even pick out the lines anymore. The whole process was more than a little cathartic for Jean and Seth wonders if the reverse would be—

“Staring, again,” Jean mumbles without looking up.

“Fuck you,” Seth says, picking up his PlayStation controller just to move his hands.

“If you’re thinking about tattoos, call Neil,” Jean replies, unphased.

Seth loses interest in the game before he even turns it on. He’s still, even after all this time, squirrely at the idea of being so easily known, but he mentally nudges that aside to ask, “Neil wants one, too?”

Jean hums, nodding absently. “He’s…” he makes a face that twists his cheek and Seth feels a little swoop in his stomach. He hadn’t gotten to see the one and only tattoo Neil ever had before it was mutilated. “Nervous.”

Neil is having a minor crisis, actually, but he’d appreciate Jean phrasing it that way if he knew.

It’s not really the pain he’s afraid of; he’s not letting _anyone_ near his face with a tattoo gun ever again in this life, but that’s not what’s circling his head. He _does_ want a tattoo, is the thing. Because his family isn’t related to him, they don’t share blood. The thing they do share is that no matter how far they get from each other, they’re still _Foxes._ There’s something in him that wants to carry that proof on his skin.

There’s a part of him, though, a big part that he’s having to fight almost every day in one way or another, that was raised by a woman deeply paranoid about how recognizable he is. A tattoo, wherever he puts it and whatever it’s of, would just make him easier to identify.

“You’re being stupid,” Andrew mumbles into his neck, bringing him out of his head.

Neil goes back to petting his hair, enjoying the weight of Andrew laid out on top of him, comfortable today. “Probably,” he admits and tries to relax.

“About what?”

“I want a tattoo.”

“So get one,” Andrew answers like he is genuinely questioning Neil’s intelligence. Neil snorts, but lets go when Andrew sits up to look at him seriously. “You know you’re famous, right?”

Neil almost tells him the money isn’t the issue, before he realizes that’s not at all what Andrew is saying. There has never been anyone who’s known Neil as well as Andrew and he lets him know it with brute force sometimes. Neil is _famous._ Maybe not an A-Lister or anything, but he’s playing on a national exy team, there are people he will _never_ meet who know his name and face, who maybe even have his stats on a playing card.

He’s well past identifiable at this point. May as well have fun with it, right?

By the time they get to Allison’s for their summer visit, Seth is buzzing at seeing his little siblings again, picking them up (literally, in Neil’s case) at the airport on the way to her place. There’s no telling what chaos Allison and Jean will cause, but having Andrew along minimizes the trouble they’ll get into (in that it narrows the options down, at least.) Neil and Seth have an appointment.

Seth’s wearing a cutoff shirt so the artist—Pineapple, apparently—can get at his shoulder. He looks excited and at ease to Neil’s eyes, but also, Seth is still a little more natural about shooting the shit with people than Neil is, generally. Especially when he notices Pineapple’s got Green Day’s _Dookie_ album mixed in the sleeve on his arm. Neil watches, tries to stay present in the conversation he only understands snatches of because his brothers’ taste in music is largely unchanged. He doesn’t mind Green Day, though, so that’s cool. Something about saying that and having Pineapple chuckle, “Oh, yeah, kid?” makes him feel like he’s hanging out with his older brother’s cooler friends.

It’s nice, though, so he watches the image show up on Seth’s arm and relaxes.

Seth’s fox is a little sinister looking, smirking with smoke pouring out of its eyes, a tattered flag in its teeth reading _NEVER DIE QUIETLY_. All in all, it’s very Seth and he seems pleased, the same smiling-snarl gracing his expression as he looks in the mirror.

Even though they’ve spoken with their artists over the phone for months now and know exactly what they’re in for, Neil still tenses minutely when he has to lay down on the table to let Pineapple touch his leg. Seth is there before he even has to ask, though, pulling up the spare stool so he’s right in Neil’s line of sight, watching his brother’s back. He winks and Neil relaxes when they start talking sports, which he can do at length even when a dozen tiny bees are stinging his calf. Neil flinches once when Pineapple holds his leg still, but Seth starts playing with his hair and making fun of his shitty music tastes until he forgets to be nervous.

Pineapple seems to think they’re dating by the end of it, but he’s chummy and kind about it, so Neil doesn’t feel the need to get into it. Especially when the guy finally finishes and Neil gets his first look at the fox seated, staring boldly out from the back of his calf. Neil wouldn’t have come in the first place if he’d thought the work would look bad, but he’s actually…really surprised by how much he _loves_ it. There’s strength there, the warning of ‘ _I don’t know how to die quietly_ ’ coming across clearly in his fox’s eyes.

“Yes,” he says distractedly, then when Seth laughs, he actually looks at them. The studs in Pineapple’s lip have already lifted with an unbothered grin, but Neil clarifies anyway, “That’s exactly right.”

Kevin is the one to most whole heartedly agree.

There’s a folder on his phone, hidden in a password protected calculator, that are just his favorite pictures of the foxes. It’s probably not necessary to hide them like this, but some of them are a little _littler_ than he’d like anyone else to accidently see. The pictures make him happy to scroll through while he’s taking a break from reviewing tapes between games (or it’s late at night and he misses his family like a limb). The one of Seth grinning, stooped down to flex behind Neil so they can get both their new tattoos in the same picture is the one he’s cycling to the most, lately.

Seth’s is so on brand it just makes him laugh, but Neil’s… That one _feels_ right.

_That_ Fox feels like the exact sort of bravery—admittedly, topped off with liquid courage at the time—that made him put a queen on his face. He’d been terrified, but he’d done it, and he carries that level of defiance with him everywhere, lets it keep his spine straight when pressure and ghosts try to bend it. He thinks about it for months actually, until Neil is staying the night in his apartment after a game.

Kevin’s buzzer beater cost Neil’s team the win, so he’s a little pouty, but that’s leagues past where he would’ve been years ago. It’s not nearly enough to keep him from tangling up with Kevin on the couch while they absently watch _Adventure Time._ Kevin isn’t quite as touch starved as he had been back in _The Nest_ , but he’s definitely missed this kind of casual closeness he only gets with his siblings. It makes him feel lax and brave. He taps the side of Neil’s knee to get his attention. “Can we share your fox?”

Neil goes still, surprised into silence. Then he turns in the scant space of the sofa, until he can look in Kevin’s face as they settle back against each other. “We already do,” he says, which is far more poetic than Neil usually is and almost makes Kevin want to cry. “But what are you thinking?”

What he’s thinking about feels like a fucking his-and-hers tattoo, but he can’t get it out of his brain. Neil doesn’t laugh when he explains, though, and doesn’t point out how that’s going to look, not when Kevin is probably even more acutely aware than he is.

The whole world already thinks it knows how wrapped up the Foxes are in each other, knows that there _is_ blood—shared and spilled—that ties them together. What’s one more ounce of it?

Kevin’s fox has thinner lines, fur that looks like it could almost be flame, but those eyes are just as keen as Neil’s. They are siblings that share their father’s eyes.

The tiara on its head is a bright bit of difference, though, unmistakably pink.

Allison calls him to scream “ _Princess!!_ ” in his ear as soon as she sees it.

As anticipated, the press gets ahold of it and spins a half dozen different headlines about what it could mean, some close to correct, most very wrong. It’s easier not to stress about them when his sister is excitedly chattering about how gossip hounds never going to be clever enough to catch foxes. Then Nicky joins the call, reading the most outlandish things he can find about ‘ _The Foxhole Cult_ ’ and they’re laughing themselves near sick.

Nicky waits until he’s off the phone with them to start agonizing at Erik.

“ _I want one, toooo,_ ” Nicky whines immediately in German, covering his face and falling into Erik’s lap.

Erik smiles at his familiar theatrics, but amicably raises his book out of the way so Nicky can curl into him. “ _Then get oneeeee,_ ” he replies, setting his book fully aside when Nicky pouts at him. “ _Most of your siblings have already gotten one, yes?_ ”

It always brings Nicky unspeakable joy when Erik calls the Foxes his siblings without any hesitation or question and now is no exception. He kisses Erik’s chest. “ _Yes, but…the one I want is so kitschy_.”

“ _Unlike other matching sibling tattoos?_ ” Erik teases, then pinches Nicky’s chin affectionately when he sticks his tongue out at him. “ _Have you spoken with them about this?_ ”

“ _No. They’re little darlings, they’d just tell me to do it,_ ” Nicky confesses.

Erik’s eyebrow raises delicately. “ _And that’s a reason_ not _to?_ ”

Putting it like that makes it so annoyingly simple, Nicky wants to fuss on principle. So he does, and Erik accepts it with the same gracious amusement he normally does. He also is the first to be able to fawn over the little fox laying in a heart-shaped field on Nicky’s chest.

Nicky texts them the picture, accompanied by every heart emoji in his phone.

_> In case you’re ever wondering where you are._

For however anxious he’d been at the prospect, he’s met with the same flood of joy and excitement the others had been about their tattoos. He even gets a heart emoji out of Neil that has him squealing well before Aaron texts him—a private group thread between the cousins, _> We never have to wonder_—and he winds up sobbing into his hands.

Andrew finds this whole thing horribly tacky; he really does.

Still, he likes how something about having the tattoo makes Neil seem fiercer even when his back is turned, makes Kevin stand taller. Even Seth, who by all accounts should’ve been taken from them, flexes his tattoo like a reminder of exactly how hard foxes can bite back. He likes that in spite of everything, Matt gave a permanent testament to his sobriety on his body. He likes that Renee and Dan are decorated with colors _they_ chose this time, wear them beautifully with pride. He likes that Allison looks at him in shock when he touches the fox on her shoulder, before smiling, kissing the inside of his wrist right at the edge of his arm band. He likes that Nicky carries them, always, but lightly and with joy, too.

More than all of that, he likes the idea of feeling physically, purposefully related to his family.

It takes a few years. Not of the others wearing him down, though. They never mention him getting one, not even half-hearted or jokingly. To them it probably seems fitting that the Twins still match in this.

But Andrew has taken strides in accepting the space between himself and Aaron isn’t one day going to be too big to cross. They don’t have to do anything to stay identical, they’re already putting in the effort to stay brothers in a healthy, functional way.

The armbands have always been a stark bit of difference between them, anyway.

Making that permanent doesn’t feel like betrayal.

“ _It’s not,_ ” Aaron agrees instantly when Andrew calls him because they do that now, call just to catch up. “ _Drew, we’re wearing the same fucking face. There’s no undoing that. If you want to start doodling on yourself, be my guest._ ”

Neil asks if Andrew wants him to go with him. Andrew kisses him and says no.

The first session may just be a discussion anyway.

…Or a quick dismissal.

It’s not, though, even when Andrew feels something cold clenching in his chest as he peels off his arm bands in the privacy of a back office of _The Ink Machine._

To her credit, the tattoo artist doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t wince. Bendy just nods, looking over his scars. “Ok, yeah, I can work with that, but I need you to hear me first…”

Andrew feels himself locking up inside, expecting some sentimental, ‘ _you’re not alone_ ’ bullshit he doesn’t want from a stranger who has no fucking clue what he’s been through.

She pulls him back from the brink of walking out on her with simple honesty.

“Everyone knows getting tattooed hurts, but it’s also gonna feel a lot like _this_ while it heals,” she continues pointing at the raised lines on his arms. “That horrible, itchy feeling that made you want to open them all again just so it’d stop? That’s what a healing tattoo feels like for some people.” She looks at him seriously. “Are you far enough away from those old sharps to handle that? I’m very touchy about my art being vandalized.”

The fact that she would probably send him packing if he said no makes him like her a lot more than if she’d attempted empty platitudes. As it stands, he remembers the feeling in a visceral way that mentally takes him to a dark hall, hiding ruined sheets that his foster mother should’ve asked about. It doesn’t matter now, her reminds himself sharply; it doesn’t belong in his new life and neither do the items he used to open his skin.

“I’ve healed from worse,” Andrew says plainly. The implication of ‘without tearing myself apart again’ is hopefully there, too.

“And you know you won’t be able to wear those until you’re healed?” she clarifies, with a nod at his arm bands, still clenched in his fists.

…That’s worse than the idea of the healing, actually. The arm bands got him through all of his adolescence and a good chunk of his adulthood, too. He’s got an easy dozen now, most black, but a few other colors courtesy of Allison.

But the offseason is coming up.

But Neil isn’t a trigger for him and, by now, neither are the rest of the Foxes when they take their time to go see them. He can get something with baggy sleeves to wear traveling and just… let them see him.

They’ve seen the worst of his wounds already, what are a few more?

Bendy lets him think, though, and accepts his nod at face value. “Alright, then let’s get to work. Do you have an idea of what you want already?”

“A fox on one,” Andrew answers instantly, because that’s the whole reason he’s here.

“And the other?”

They talk about it. She sends him a preliminary sketch a week later and—

He feels. Sometimes he forgets that he can feel things so sharply without them being related to Neil or the bright stab of pain from a tripped trigger.

_Delight_ is not something Andrew really thinks about, but the feeling names itself a while later when Andrew has managed to get his breath back. Neil sees all this happen and patiently waits for him to look at him before he speaks. Then his face lights up with understanding and wonder, “You _love_ it.” Then after a silence that is an admission, “Can I see?”

“No.”

Not yet.

Andrew schedules his appointment and goes alone again. He doesn’t care about the aimless chatting Bendy drags him into, not really, but he appreciates what she’s trying to do. The stinging is not as bad as _Before,_ but it’s still a pretty stark reminder. He responds to her just to give his brain something else to do, vaguely talks about what he does and the tattoos his friends have. He doesn’t take his eyes off her hands, but she doesn’t seem bothered by the staring, gamely asks how exy even works.

When she finishes, the same raw delight he’d felt when he’s seen her initial sketches swells up in his chest and for a long while he can only stand in silence. The tip he leaves her is a sight higher than she’s clearly expecting, but she doesn’t play at not keeping it.

By the time he gets home, Neil is about to come out of his skin. “Can I look now?”

“Yes,” Andrew says coming forward with his hands out. Neil’s breath stalls in his chest.

They both look down at the fox climbing up Andrew’s left forearm…

And the rabbit leaping down towards his right hand.

The bright spark in his chest at the sight of his own arms is rivaled only by the way his heart pounds at the wide, wet look in Neil’s eyes when he finally manages to meet his gaze. “Yes or no?”

Andrew says yes and lets himself enjoy the softest touches of love he’s ever had laid on him.

He doesn’t send a picture then, though. Doesn’t even mention it until he’s taking his hoodie off at Abby’s and gets a quadruple double take. They’re all buzzing internally trying not to bombard him or stare and it’s making him itch, almost annoyed by their considerateness. He finally just presents his wrists to Aaron who takes them gently while they others crowd around.

“You actually did it,” Kevin says in awe.

“They’re so _beautiful!_ ” Abby says upon being allowed and Andrew isn’t a child, doesn’t examine the weird squirm of pride— _delight_ —in his chest at the genuine joy in her voice.

Their fussing is all congratulatory and happy. It’s the first time anyone besides Neil has gotten a close look at his arms and something about it still rings a little alarm at the bizarreness of it all, but it’s not heartrending. When he gets tired of them looking so closely, even with the scars obscured under ink, he pulls his hands back and Aaron lets him go without fuss.

For the moment, anyway. Aaron doesn’t really let go the rest of the night if he can help it.

Nowadays, they don’t get the chance to be as cuddly as they were in college. As loathed as Aaron is to admit he misses it, he finds he doesn’t ever have to. Drew is easier to read these days, both in the sense of understanding and the fact that he’s just easier to be around. Aaron sits down and Andrew slots right beside him without a word.

The first picture Andrew shares of his tattoos is one Wymack takes from afar; Andrew in the middle of signing something to Aaron.

It’s something Aaron has talked about at length—with Katelyn mostly, but sometimes even a therapist, both of whom are very proud—how the older they get, the more _different_ they get, the more ways he and Andrew close the gap between them.

They talk like brothers. Even if they’re both shitheads about it sometimes, Drew isn’t just pretending to care about Katelyn and Aaron is years away from hating Neil. Andrew knows some of Aaron’s friends—they both use the word ‘ _acquaintances_ ’—by name and Aaron keeps up with the exy circuit. They’re brothers.

They even sometimes spend holidays together.

Aaron got gifts, of course, but that’s not the important bit. He leaves them in the trunk as they walk up to the hotel where Neil and Andrew are waiting. Neil has learned from polite company and stands to hug Katelyn. She doesn’t seem bothered when Andrew just says, “Katy,” because of course she wouldn’t, a nickname is practically outright affection from him.

“Drew,” she smiles like a wink. Then with the complete lack of subtlety only found in honest people, she beams at Neil and asks sweetly, “Neil, can you show me to the check-in?”

Adorably transparent, Aaron _aches_ loving her, but—after a quick glance at Andrew—Neil lets her think she’s gotten away with something.

Andrew looks up at him from under the beanie Renee knitted him last winter and raises his eyebrows. _What?_

It must be all over Aaron’s face that he’s literally itching to tell Andrew something. He sits down in the seat Neil had just vacated.

Pressed shoulder to shoulder on a tiny bench in the cold, it _feels_ like they’re brothers, today. Like they’re just waiting for someone to hurry up and take a picture of them. If they wait long enough for the others to arrive, Allison will probably try.

Aaron takes a breath, signs clumsily through his gloves. [I got a fox.]

[A pet?] Andrew asks and Aaron realizes it’s a joke before he can make himself look silly. He glares at Andrew, who still isn’t prone to smiling, but looks at him with a soft bit of amusement. [Where?]

Cold as it is, Aaron does really feel like getting a draft to show him the ink peeling on his collarbone. He fumbles his phone out of his pocket instead, though, slips it to Andrew without looking. He hasn’t sent the picture anywhere and doesn’t really intend to; Katelyn is the only one who even knows about it so far.

It’s a family gimmick, yeah, but this is about he and Drew first.

Andrew takes his phone and Aaron feels him go completely still against his shoulder.

The two foxes playing joyfully under his collarbone, caught mid motion, don’t have to mean anything more than he thought it was pretty and wanted a fox.

Aaron doesn’t really do anything just because it’s _pretty_ , though. And as much as he loves—and he calls it that, easier every time he thinks it—the other foxes, he _loves_ what they’ve given he and his brother.

This, them being this close, would never have been possible without their new family.

As of late, Andrew knows his brother well enough to understand the gravity of having a permanent, _welcome_ mark on Aaron’s body, in Aaron’s _life_.

It seems like he isn’t quite breathing. Aaron wordlessly offers his hand, a question that is answered immediately by Andrew’s hand wrapping around his, squeezing tightly, almost like a _thank you_.

“Yeah,” Aaron agrees softly.

That isn’t likely to be the last of it. Kevin and Seth have both caught the ink bug, casually chat about other pieces they want. Dan mentioned briefly wanting something for her anniversary and Renee is trying to decide between her favorite bible verses. Even Jean has considered it—probably not a fox, he says, but then later, maybe a fox, actually, because he’s in a family of foxes. There’s no rush to any of it, though, no urgency.

They all know where they stand, whose family they are.

Tattoos or no, that never comes into question again.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading…your body is deserving of the most loving decorations
> 
> (Reminders: fresh tattoos are wounds, don’t aggravate them w/exercise or scratching/peeling. Also, if you’re getting color/bigger pieces it’ll probably take more than one sitting, but we’re hand waving here.)


End file.
